All That Matters
by HeidiW
Summary: A mini-fic depicting how Shadow of the Tomb Raider might end, reuniting the tragically separated best friends at last.


Author's note: Originally written last year, I reworked this fic for the upcoming #SSEndurance week – see /BringSamNback?lang=en for more info (tag: #BringSamNBack)

ALL THAT MATTERS

Lara staggered into the Manor's main hall, her feet moving as though encased in hardened mud.

Closing the heavy oak door behind her, she unslung the duffel from her shoulder and let it drop to the floor with a loud clang: in retrospect, it seemed ludicrous to think she'd carried around all that gear for weeks.

The archaeologist slumped back against the door and sighed.

She knew she dealt Trinity a crippling blow. She'd exposed the Cardinal, the resulting excommunication making world headlines. It certainly wasn't the type of mark she'd intended to make three years prior, but…

Whatever happened now, she seriously doubted Trinity would regain its former power. With the world now aware of its existence, its financial assets lost or frozen, the organization would slowly shrivel up like a dead spider.

 _Finally._

But the price had been high.

The throbbing from her side had flared up again, the old Yamatai wound once more rearing its ugly head. The countless nicks, bruises and cuts had conspired to make every movement painful. Her shoulders still screamed from the impossible demands she'd placed upon them, her increasingly reckless leaps having nearly torn her limbs form their sockets.

She knew if she continued at this rate she'd be a near invalid by the time she turned fifty, her only consolation being the unlikelihood she'd live to see the day.

Even if the Trinity threat diminished, others would emerge from the shadows to take their place.

She'd played countless rounds of Russian Roulette – she knew one day there would be a bullet in the chamber.

But for now, she would allow herself a day or two of rest.

Pushing off, she slowly trudged her way down the hall. It was just past midday, but her exhaustion was such that she would attain slumber within seconds of hitting the pillow - there would be time enough for showering later.

She was almost at the end of the main hall that branched off into the bedrooms when she heard it.

Someone was running. Towards her.

 _Shit!_

There was no time to retrieve her climbing axe from the duffle. The brunette crouched against the wall and prepared to grapple the intruder, her battered body surging with adrenaline.

The figure flew around the corner and skidded to a stop.

Lara drew in a sharp breath.

"Sa - _Sam?_ "

The Asian-American emerged into the dull light provided by one of the hall's long unwashed windows.

"I figured that was you."

The Englishwoman straightened up from her crouch, gaping at the unexpected visitor - the sight of the filmmaker sent sharp pangs through the brunette's heart.

"How...how did you get in here?"

Sam's pained expression mirrored her drooping shoulders.

"Really? That's the first thing you ask?"

"I - "

The brunette's stomach wrenched painfully: the last time she'd seen her friend was in a hospital bed in Germany, a box of Jaffa Cakes sitting untouched on her lap.

"I'm sorry, I...I just wasn't expecting this."

Sam swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, I figured it was the only way you'd talk to me."

The two young women stared at each other in silence. Part of Lara wanted desperately to embrace her long-suffering friend - but another, self-loathing, part stayed her hand.

"You shouldn't be here," rasped the archaeologist. "There's still danger -"

"Fuck the danger," countered the Asian-American forcefully.

"You don't mean that," returned the Englishwoman. "Sam, have you forgotten Yamatai? Himiko? Trinity?"

The filmmaker drew closer.

"Do you think I could _ever_ forget?" replied Sam. "She was in my head, Lara...she in my fucking head, for so long!"

Lara bit her bottom lip; the anguish in her friend's voice was heart-wrenching.

"She wanted me to kill you," continued the filmmaker, eyes glittering. "She was determined that I should be the instrument of your death. Do you have ANY idea how that made me feel, fighting her off every damned DAY...?"

Lara's mouth opened and closed without uttering a sound.

What reply could she make?

They'd both been through their respective Hells. But Sam's had been particularly cruel.

 _Don't abandon me again, Lara…_

The tremor in the Asian-American's voice increased. "Those Trinity bastards...they pumped me so full of shit..."

Lara stepped forward. "Sam -"

"They experimented on me," choked the filmmaker. "I was going insane from the psycho cocktail they were forcing into me...I had to give myself to Himiko to survive...I had to give in to the hate, to the darkness..."

Lara's emotions were threatening to overwhelm her.

"You fought her off," rasped the Englishwoman. "You were stronger -"

"BECAUSE OF YOU!" cried Sam, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "Because I knew if I…if I could somehow defeat her...I could have you in my life again."

The archaeologist ran a shaking hand back through her hair.

"I never wanted to push you away, Sam," explained the Englishwoman. "I only wanted to keep you safe. I can't put you at risk again. I won't."

The filmmaker stomped her boot against the floor.

"I'm not a fucking family heirloom you hide away in some cupboard to keep from getting dusty! I'm a person! I've made my own choice!"

"That's not what I - what choice?"

Sam swallowed hard.

"This is where I belong," voiced the Asian-American, her voice cracking. "At your side."

The Englishwoman's head was spinning. Part of her wanted that so much.

But…

"Sam...you've seen what happens to people around me. I can't let you do this..."

Sam slowly shuffled up to the archaeologist.

"Do you remember Kilimanjaro? What you said?"

Lara's mind drifted back to that magical night; it was hard to believe only five years had passed.

It had been another time. Another life.

A starry sky at the foot of the mountain, marshmallows roasting over a small campfire.

She and Sam huddled together under a blanket.

Solemn promises made.

"I remember," rasped the Englishwoman.

The Asian-American wiped her cheeks. "I'm holding you to that."

"But -"

"I don't want a fucking protector," interjected Sam, cutting off the Englishwoman's argument before it could begin. "I want my friend back. My life. I want my Lara."

The Englishwoman was struggling to fight back tears, the surge of emotion - of actual _hope_ \- threatening to overwhelm her.

Was it possible? Could they rebuild everything they'd lost?

It would be a treasure beyond any she'd found in a tomb.

"But...but your family..."

"I told you, I've made my choice," repeated the filmmaker, her voice hoarse. "When I told them where I was going, they gave me an ultimatum."

Lara's shoulders sagged in realization.

"Oh, Sam, no..."

The Asian-American shook her head.

"Don't...it wasn't a hard choice to make."

A trembling hand reached up and cupped the archaeologist's cheek.

"You're all that matters," whispered the filmmaker.

Lara's emotional banks finally burst.

She collapsed into her friend.

The two young women clutched each other tightly, their unhindered sobs filling the empty halls.

"Missed you...so much," cried Lara.

"Make that a double," wept Sam, her nose buried in the Englishwoman's cheek.

Almost two years of pent up anguish flowed from the two ravaged hearts.

Two souls were once more entwined.

Sam slowly pulled back and smiled at her companion, dark eyes glistening.

"You know, you're going to have to show me around this place," choked the filmmaker. "I never realized just how big it was."

"I will," returned the archaeologist, her heart surging so hard the sensation seemed almost alien. "But..."

Sam's smile slowly faded.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

Lara chewed her lip and nodded.

"I have a couple of days though," explained the Englishwoman. "Enough to help you get settled in."

Sam's hopeful smile returned.

She rested her head against Lara's shoulder and sighed.

"I'll take it," voiced the Asian-American. "Just promise you'll come back..."

Lara chuckled as she stroked her companion's hair.

"You don't have to worry this time," explained the archaeologist. "It's a dig already in progress. No adventure. No tombs. Just digging and cataloguing. Rather more mundane stuff, at least compared to my usual fare."

Sam laughed softly.

"That'll practically be a vacation for you."

"A little," admitted the Englishwoman. "But we'll have a proper holiday when I get back. I promise."

"We're due for one, aren't we?"

"That we are."

Sam leaned into her friend; Lara realized the Asian-American was every bit as emotionally exhausted as she was.

It was hardly surprising - she'd been through a Hell that would've shattered most.

"So where is this dig, anyway?"

Lara kissed her companion's forehead.

"Over the pond. In Maine."

A soft laugh. "Sounds boring."

"I'm sure it will be."


End file.
